The Fighter
by Victory Goddess
Summary: After the death of Rebecca Merlyn, Malcolm escapes to China. He encounters the League of Assassins, who saved his life. He becomes intrigued and enamored by the League's greatest martial artist, Lady Shiva.
1. Chapter 1

**This is an AU; Rebecca Merlyn was killed when Tommy was about a year old. Malcolm decides that he needs to take time away from Starling and escapes to China. Whilst in Tibet, he encounters the League of Assassins. **

**He still trains with them for 2 years as in canon.**

**Dedicated to the Darkness Knight.**

* * *

He looked out at the magnificent view of Tibet, feeling a sadness and emptiness that would never be cured.

Malcolm Merlyn had recently lost his beloved wife, Rebecca, to a lowlife in the Glades. She was shot and no one cared or helped her. People couldn't even help each other. The anger had consummated him to the point that he couldn't attend the funeral and even look at his one year old son, Tommy.

The wind blew in Malcolm's face; it felt like he could be at peace here in one of the highest places on Earth. The snow covered peaks were vast. It began to lightly snow. He saw a bird fly overhead.

"Are you ready to go Mr. Merlyn?" his Chinese guide asked. "The snow storms are quite dangerous up here."

Malcolm was snapped out of his thoughts. He had a last glance at thr mountaintop before turning to his guide.

"You lead the way," Malcolm attempted to smile; he absolutely detested faking.

The guide began to walk. Malcolm's accommodation wasn't far which was a good thing. As soon as he arrived in Tibet, Malcolm knew he would get lost. Everything looked the same.

The gale began to pick up. It was beginning to get hard to see.

The guide began to run.

"We must hurry Mr. Merlyn!"

"Alright!" Malcolm shouted through the gale. _Damn how this weather quickly changes._

The snow on the ground proved to be a challenge to run on. As Malcolm attempted to get over a rock he could barely see, he felt himself slip.

"Wait!" he shouted, the gale drowned out what he was saying.

The guide quickly ran to Malcolm's aid. Malcolm just got up when he saw three people behind the guide. They were all clad in black and wore ski masks. The snow began to fall quicker and faster.

"Behind you!"

As the guide turned around, one of the people knocked the guide unconscious with a baton. The gale whispered in Malcolm's ear. It was hard to distinguish who these people were due to the storm. Malcolm assumed these people were the thieves-slash-murderers that were harassing foreigners in Tibet.

_Why didn't I take self defense classes?_

The second person went to punch Malcolm but he grabbed the person's fist. The person was much quicker and used his leg to kick Malcolm in the stomach. Malcolm fell over in pain. A dagger was withdrawn and it was plunged into Malcolm's side. Malcolm felt himself forced to the floor. He looked to the side where he saw blood stained snow but couldn't see anything else. He tried to force his attacker off him but he was stabbed again. Now, Malcolm felt blind as the storm raged.

The first person, who knocked out the guide, was rummaging through the guide's pockets.

"_Shā yīgè zi de érzi fù rén! Búyào nòng zāng zhōuwéi," _the first attacker shouted to his companion. (Translate: Kill the rich son of a bitch! Don't muck around.)

For a brief second, the second attacker lost focus. Malcolm mustered his last strength to get up. He threw a sloppy punch at the attacker's face. The attacker retaliated by throwing several sharp punches at Malcolm's nose. His nose began to bleed as he stumbled back onto the rock.

The third attacker was watching everything unfold. He didn't hear someone sneak behind him.

There was a brief squeal of pain and shock. The other two attackers turned around and saw a young dark haired woman standing in front of their fallen leader, who was surrounded in a pool of his own blood.

The gale blew around the young woman and it seemed that she disappeared. The men were confused. The second man received a quick precise kick to the head and fell into the other man. The young woman slashed the second man's chest with a knife.

The third man scrambled to the side and withdrew a sword. The woman respectfully bowed before withdrawing her own sword.

"_Ràng wômen kàn kàn rúgiô nî shì yīgè zhídé zūnjìng de duìshôu," _the woman spoke to her opponent (Translation: Let us see if you are a worthy opponent)_  
_

"_Nî huì hòuhuî de tiâozhàn wô." _(Translation: You'll regret challenging me)

"_Wômen zôuzhe qiáo." _(Translation: We'll see about that)

Malcolm struggled to look up. His strength was gone and he felt the cold slowly overtake his body.

The man and the woman clashed their blades out at the same time. The woman saw that the man was about to jump back. Before he could even make his move, she sweep kicked him and pointed her blade at his throat.

The woman fixated her look into her opponent's eyes but he raised his leg and kicked her, causing the woman to drop her sword. As the woman stumbled back, she began to do a quick backward handspring.

The man charged at her. She jumped over him. With a swift and powerful punch to the head, the man was instantly dead.

The woman walked to where Malcolm was lying against the rock. He was breathing hastily and was shocked to see the young woman loom in front of him.

She stood like an angel of death and even had the appearance. She had shoulder length black hair and intense hazel eyes. Her skin tone was pale. She wore a black coat, which seemed to tail behind her, like wings. The woman wore a red Chinese tailored shirt. She wore black pants and black knee high boots.

He had never believed in angels but now, he wasn't quite sure what was real and wasn't at this point.

"I don't know what you want," Malcolm yelled. "But you can take my belongings. Kill me, if you want; I don't care!"

He felt his vision go hazy as the storm began to pick up further. He felt dread...and...relief? Or was it peace?

He last saw the woman kneel in front of him, her hazel eyes looking into his dark brown eyes.

* * *

When Malcolm woke up, it was slightly hazy as his eyes adjusted to this new setting. He was in a room of some sort. It was small and a ray of light originated from an open window. This room seemed like a dojo from the Kung Fu movies.

"It is nice to see that you are awake Mr. Merlyn," Malcolm turned his head to see a man standing by his bedside.

The man wore some kind of armor which was black. Malcolm noticed that he had a sheath with a sword. His facial features and expression indicated he was tough with more life experience that Malcolm had ever seen. His hair seemed to be a hazel color but it was graying.

"Who are you?" Malcolm greeted. "How do you know who I am?"

The man seemed amused but not impressed.

"I am Ra's al Ghul," the man proudly responded. "Leader of the League of Assassins. The world is too small for Malcolm Merlyn to simply...disappear."

_Assassins? Swords? What century does he live in?_

"Well, I think I just did _disappear_," Malcolm sarcastically responded.

"Just because you lost your wife, the world is filth; the world is ruined," Ra's spoke, unaffected by Malcolm's sarcasm; Malcolm tensed.

"You don't anything about my wife!" Malcolm tried to hide the tears.

"If you had picked up her phone call...she might still be alive," Ra's continued, unemotionally. "Now, it seems you're more reckless; you were begging to be killed up at the mountain."

"Rebecca was important to me..."

"Do you seek justice? Vengeance, perhaps?" Ra's was quite interested to await Malcolm's response.

"I seek to avenge her death and all others like it," Malcolm spoke firmly. "I seek to eradicate the criminal element; to make the world a better place for my son."

"Well, Mr. Merlyn," Ra's briefly paused, contemplating. "Do you wish to be a member of the League of Assassins."


	2. Chapter 2

"You would...help me?" Malcolm was at disbelief at the older man.

Ra's nodded. He could sympathize with the younger man.

"The League of Assassins can help you. We aim to eradicate corruption for centuries; we loaded boats with plague rats, burned London to the ground, committed the atrocious Whitechapel murders...to demonstrate how corruption can get out of hand and the only solution is to destroy it," Ra's answered.

Corruption was the key word. The key to Starling's corruption was in the Glades.

"Your organization sounds noble but has a name projecting the opposite," Malcolm replied. "Either way, I accept your offer."

"Come forward," Ra's beckoned.

Malcolm got out of the bed. He looked down to where he was stabbed and saw it had been wrapped up. Ra's opened the door of the small bedroom and walked out. Malcolm trailed after him.

The exit of the small room lead to a vast hallway. Candles were lit by the side. Other people walked down the hallway. They all wore similar black armor and robes. The hallway seemed sacred. Malcolm looked around his surroundings.

Upon seeing Ra's walk, they immediately bowed and uttered greetings in a variety of foreign languages Malcolm wasn't familiar with him. Ra's responded to all of them before continuing down the hall.

"You followers are quite devout," Malcolm said to Ra's.

"We are all united under the same goal and believe in equality," Ra's responded.

They continued a little further before arriving at another door. Ra's opened the door, a gust of wind blew in his face but he seemed unfazed. Malcolm followed him.

Outside there was a courtyard. There were several people practicing unarmed combat. The floor of the courtyard was wood. There were a few potted plants, which could survive the treacherous weather, were by the side.

The combatants' movements were impressive but it made Malcolm feel a bit inferior. He saw two combatants close by, face off against...the angel of death. Her movements were quick, agile and precise; it wasn't long before she had the other two fighters on the ground. She gave Malcolm a cold stare.

"Who is she?" Malcolm asked Ra's.

Ra's looked over to her. The two fighters respectfully bowed at her.

"Lady Shiva; the League's best martial artist."

"Is that really her name?"

Shiva was the name of the Hindu god of destruction. Rather odd, but her fighting ability suggested the name was perfect for her.

"No, it is an alias. You'll find that many of the League's members use aliases."

Ra's stood at the centre of the courtyard, before calling to everyone to come. The fighters stopped what they were doing and made a circle around Ra's and Malcolm.

"We have a new recruit, Malcolm Merlyn."

The combatants respectfully nodded whilst Malcolm looked around at them all. Ra's looked over to Lady Shiva.

Shiva ran toward Malcolm and kicked him in the side, where he was stabbed.

"You must mind your surroundings Mr. Merlyn," Shiva spoke. "You must be prepared if you are willing to be a member of the League."

Malcolm looked at her incredulously. Shiva scoffed back in amusement; the Master couldn't be serious.

"You had to kick my wound, didn't you?"

Ra's and the other fighters were amused.

"You have to persist, no matter the cost."

Malcolm felt a bit humiliated. He was beaten in a fight and a battle of the wits; he didn't say anything else. Ra's stepped forward beckoning one of the fighters to come forward. He respectfully bowed.

"Mr. Merlyn, you'll be trained by Al Owal."

The combatant nodded. Malcolm and Al Owal looked each other in the eye.

* * *

Al Owal led Malcolm to a private training room for beginners.

"What was Shiva doing up in the mountain when I was attacked?" Malcolm questioned as they entered the room.

"She hikes the mountains regularly; you happen to be fortunate, unlike your tour guide," Al Owal coldly responded.

Malcolm didn't say anything else. He was guilty of another death...of someone he didn't know well.

It seemed the Assassins were cold spoken and hearted. It was nothing like Rebecca's warm hearted nature. It was all his fault. He felt the surfacing of tears come into his eyes. He would do anything to have Rebecca back.

"Quit the tears. We'll start with the basics..Put your right leg back a little bit and stand strong; stand as if your feet are glued to the floor."

Haunting images of Rebecca's corpse on the floor surfaced in Malcolm's mind. Al Owal could tell Malcolm wasn't one hundred percent focused but he could care less. It was time to discipline the young man.

"Why?" Malcolm inquired, his voice sounded weak.

Al Owal didn't answer. With a swift sweep kick, Malcolm fell over to the floor. More pain; unexpected.

"That's why," he answered, leaving Malcolm to get up on his own.

"It's about...minding your surroundings, isn't it?"

"At least you listen."

Malcolm stood in the same stance but more rigid. Al Owal performed the same sweep kick but Malcolm remained still. He nodded with approval.

"Stances help you keep your ground in a fight," Al Owal explained. "It makes movement not as awkward. This stance is a short fighting stance; best used for close combat."

...

Outside the training room, Shiva and Ra's were walking down the hallway.

"Since, you don't have an apprentice as a sparring partner," Ra's said. "Malcolm Merlyn will spar with you."

"Of course Master," Shiva coldly replied. "Do you think he'll even make it _that _far?"

"Have faith."

...

Al Owal was going through the types of punches; stomach level and head level. He was demonstrating how to do them correctly.

Malcolm listened, then applied. This wasn't too bad.

"Good," Al Owal nodded. "Let's move to our kicks."

There was more of a variety of kicks. The forward kick was more obvious. Next was a roundhouse kick which required more effort. After was the side kick then the back kick and lastly, the sweep.

As previously with the punches, Al Owal wanted perfection and genuine effort-slash-power. That's what happened with the roundhouse kick.

"You need more power and height; the kick is useless if it's low," Al Owal lectured. "Keep lifting your leg up until I tell you to stop."

Malcolm did as instructed. He could feel the slight soreness in his hip.

"Perfect! Now, execute the kick!"

He did but it felt slow and sloppy.

"Again!"

The soreness in his hips was more prominent; Malcolm wanted to get this over and done with. He fueled his determination into his kick.

"Good. Now, we shall move to open hand strikes."

* * *

By the end of the day, Malcolm felt exhausted. Al Owal made him learn all the basic fighting techniques then there were the torturous exercises. He almost collapsed in exhaustion.

Outside the training room, Malcolm saw Shiva. It seemed that she was waiting for him.

"I'm here to show you where your room is."

"Well then," Malcolm answered. "Lead the way."

Shiva snorted at Malcolm's naivety. She couldn't believe the Master was serious but he was gravely correct about most things; it was a sin to go against Ra's al Ghul.

She began to slowly walk while Malcolm walked right beside her.

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Why would you thank me if you sought death? Don't you seek to be reunited with your beloved wife?" Shiva responded.

Malcolm's expression instantly changed; his eyes showed resentment and bitterness. To Shiva, a "thank you" was reserved for the highest honour. Malcolm Merlyn was mocking her and contradicting himself.

"Don't you dare speak about Rebecca that way; you don't know how I feel. You don't know her!"

Predictable reaction.

"You may miss your wife as long as you please," Shiva snapped back. "If you wish to train successfully, you can't mourn the dead forever."

It was a personal thing about Shiva. She remembered how close she was to...

Shiva was over it; a previous chapter that was never meant to be opened.

Malcolm felt infuriated by Shiva. Who did she think she was?

Shiva would never understand the guilt that plagued his soul. It was because of him that Tommy would grow up without a mother...if only he answered that phone call. If only...

"What would you know of love? Or mourning for those you care about most," Malcolm challenged Shiva to the wits.

"I am only telling you from experience Mr. Merlyn. I've seen many distraught people attempt to join the League...a lot of them did not make it because they refused to let go of the past and focus," Shiva replied, calmly.

"I am referring to yourself; not the people around you."

A few of the assassins were listening to Malcolm and Shiva's banter. They were amused; Shiva was usually reclusive and of a deadly nature.

"You've pried enough into where you are not wanted Mr. Merlyn."

For a few minutes, silence lingered between Malcolm and Shiva. There was another monastery like building. Shiva entered and Malcolm staggered behind. He felt tired and just wanted to lay down.

"Why were you sent to chase me around if you dislike me so much?" Malcolm inquired.

The monasteries were quite spacious. Candles lit the hallway. More assassins were walking around. A small statue of Buddha was perched on a small table; followed by a small cross, replicating the cross Jesus Christ was crucified on. There were a variety of different religious artefacts from religions Malcolm did not fully recognise; the assassins were multi cultural.

"It is the behest of the Master that I have a sparring partner who is an apprentice, who is you but that will be until Al Owal has trained you more," Shiva answered, professionally; all hostility seemed to have vanished from previously. "I cannot dislike a man that I have just met."

Shiva was quite different but she had an aura of wisdom and logic.

Shiva turned left. There was a series of doors in this hallway.

"Your room is at the far end on the left," Shiva answered.

Malcolm walked down the end and opened the door. Everything inside was prepared and clean. He looked back to where Shiva stood.

She had disappeared.


End file.
